


FF#6: In the Dark

by CJ_fics



Series: Olicity Flash Fic Challenge [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Friendship, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_fics/pseuds/CJ_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two times Felicity sits in the dark when her heart is hurting. The two times Oliver finds her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FF#6: In the Dark

You know how children close their eyes and think that because they can’t see anyone, no one can see them as well? I remember how that felt. And sometimes, when I’m feeling vulnerable, I sit in the dark, believing that if I couldn’t see my immediate surroundings, then the world couldn’t see me as well. It’s like hiding. It’s always been reprieve.

The last time I found myself in the dark was a few days after I got my first ever battle scar. A few days after Tockman shot at Sara and I got in the way of his bullet. I thought I was fine. I thought that the act of saving Sara from being hurt, beating Tockman with his own virus, and a vague recollection of Oliver’s words to me that night, were enough to regain my confidence in my place in the team (I can be as kickass as everyone on Team Arrow) and in my tech expertise (because yeah, I beat Tockman with the same virus he infiltrated my system with, I rock!). But that night, when I got to foundry before anyone else, I couldn’t work up the energy to turn on the lights so I sat in the dark until Oliver arrived.   
  
I don’t like thinking about that evening. Words were exchanged between Oliver and me. He tried to explain his relationship with Sara, I told him there was no need. We left it at that.   
  
Tonight, I find myself in the dark in the new (well, not so new) lair. I found myself seeking that place out after Daniel and I broke up. I know there’s no one there at this time. It’s 3am.   
  
I’m in the dark again, sitting on my chair, my back towards the monitors. I’m going over and over and over everything that we said tonight. Daniel told me he loved me.   
  
And I can’t remember when the last time someone told me they loved me (barring fake I love you’s said for the benefit of a madman and setting up a trap). That statement was not part of my growing up years. My mother was never one for it. Sure, if she was feeling generous or if she wanted to make up for times when she failed to deliver because she was knee-deep in one of her romances (always, always with sleazy men), she would blurt out the words. But I knew she never quite meant them. So I should have been ecstatic about the man I’ve grown to really, really like and desire saying those three words to me, right? I wasn’t. I’m not.   
  
Daniel knew. So like the remarkable human being that he is, he let me go. He told me that we both deserve better. That he deserved to be with a woman that could love him as much he loved her; and that I deserved to be with someone I could really love. And now there’s a weight in my chest, somewhere left of its centre. For Daniel, and for myself.   
  
It’s similar to the heaviness in my chest I felt the last time I stayed like this in dark. In original lair.   
  
—————-  
  
That night, the _aspirins_ had started wearing off and Digg had me on lighter painkillers, so the throbbing in my shoulder, and the heavy feeling in my chest that’s been there since finding out that Oliver and Sara were in a relationship (a sexy times, adult relationship), came back with a vengeance. I’ve been trying to ignore it and not let everyone see that it felt like the Starship Enterprise was parked left of the centre of my chest. Because, yikes. I don’t want Digg’s pitying looks. Or Roy’s. Mostly, I didn’t want Oliver and Sara to know because I was really kind of happy that they were trying to find some happiness for themselves. And I really think they’re a great match. True equals and all that. And I didn’t want them to feel bad about it just because the TARDIS has materialised in my chest.   
  
I found myself alone in the dark in the Arrow lair, mulling over everything, trying to find a solution that would either get rid of this heavy feeling or make my face and my actions reveal nothing of its presence. You know, beyond developing a dependence on _aspirins_.   
  
I heard footsteps on the stairs quickly enough so I can turn towards my desk, fold my arms and rest my head on them, and pretend to be dozing off.   
  
"Felicity?" The lair lights come on. It’s Oliver. Argh! Why couldn’t it have been anyone else on the team other than Oliver? FML.  
  
"Huh?" I say, lifting my head from my arms. I will act as if I just woke up from my nap, even if it kills me.  
  
"Are you all right?" He’s got this confused look on his face, his eyebrows wrinkled and his eyeballs scanning the room sideways as if he could a clue that will alleviate his confusion. It’s actually quite cute and — _stop it, Felicity!_  
  
"Yeah, I’m good. Just thought I’d get a nap in before everyone else got here." Reasonable enough excuse. I flip the monitors back on. Time to work, I guess.   
  
"Right," he says. "Uh… actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you alone."  
  
"Oh? What’s up?" I respond, my attention still on the monitors. The longer I keep my face away from his eyes, the better I can school it to have the appropriate expression to have around someone who’s taken. You know, inappropriate including ones that look like I want to lick the sweat off his chest after his work-outs, or worse, the pathetic one where I look heartbroken because he’s taken. Because I am NOT heartbroken. Despite what this weight on my chest implies. I’m not. I refuse to be.

"I … feel like I should explain about Sara and my relationship. I know that I told you a few weeks back that I can’t be involved with anyone I care about because of the life I lead, and I need to explain because—".   
  
"Stop. Oliver, stop," I interrupt. Fuck. He knows about the Death Star on my chest. Did I fail to pretend? When? How? Fuck.  
  
I take a deep breath before turning to face him. I cross my fingers that the expression on my face doesn’t suck.   
  
"Oliver, there’s nothing to explain. Not to me. I know you care about Sara, and I’m glad that the two of you are happy together. Really, I am. Of course, I am! I’m your friend! And I only want good things for you. You and Sara both." And I mean it. I do.   
  
"I just want to make sure that … you’re not … hurt. By it. My relationship with Sara. I don’t want you to feel that you’re not important to me because Sara and I are involved." He gulps and looks away. It looks to me that that was as hard for him to get out as it is for me to hear.  
  
 _Oh, Oliver, why can’t you just allow yourself to be happy?_ I want to say that, but I don’t believe it’s my place to do so. So instead, I say:  
  
"I never actually believed that you were referring to me when you told me that you couldn’t be with someone you cared about because of your life. Please. Me? And you? I know my place, Oliver. I know my place in the team. I know my place in relation to you. I’m your teammate. Your technical support. Your partner. But never once was I under any delusion that I was a candidate to be more than that. Sheesh. When I said that you deserved better, I didn’t mean myself! I meant someone better than Isabel Rochev. Someone better than someone gunning after your company, someone who has been so evil towards you. Something better for you than a quick romp in the sheets with someone who doesn’t mean anything to you. And as far as I’m concerned, Sara, what you have with her, is leagues better than that, so there!" That came out good. That was mostly true. I even managed a convincing scoff.  
  
"I know, you didn’t mean yourself, Felicity! I know! I just … You’re more than my tech support! You have to know that. I can’t do any of this without you, Felicity. You—".  
  
"Don’t feel like you have to explain your relationship with Sara to me. To appease me. That’s not necessary. I know the team needs me, the Arrow needs me and my skills. And I’m not going anywhere. So there’s no need for that. We’re good."  
  
He takes a step closer and looks like he wants to argue, to say more. And I want to put a stop to it but before I can say anything more, we hear more footsteps on the stairs. Company’s coming. So I take a seat in my chair in front of the computer monitors and start to work.

If I catch myself absently rubbing my sternum for days afterwards, no one says a word.  
  
———-  
  
I’ve gotten used to that weight in my chest. I’ve learned to work around it. Function despite it, eventually making everyone think it was gone. But it never really went away, not even after Sara left Starling City. Not even when we survived Slade, and Oliver and I became closer. Not even when I started going out with Daniel. It has eased somewhat, became a whole lot more bearable. Or perhaps I’ve just gotten used to it.

Now there’s another, and it’s making the old one throb harder. It’s as if both the Enterprise and the USS Defiant were lodged in there. Almost in the same spot.   
  
"Felicity?" Damn. What are the chances that Oliver would find me in the dark again?   
  
"Don’t turn on the lights, please," I say. I want to stay in the dark a bit longer. Make this reprieve last a bit more.   
  
"What are you doing here?" he asks. He’s not moved his spot near the stairs.  
  
"What are _you_ doing here, Oliver?” I counter. Still not ready to explain myself.  
  
"I checked your tracker and I was surprised to find that you were here," he says. "I was worried. What’s going on?".  
  
I sigh. “Things with Daniel are over.”  
  
He’s quiet. But I can see his outline making its way to me.  
  
"I don’t want to talk about it," I warn, closing my eyes. If I don’t see him, maybe he won’t see me and the double weight on my chest.   
  
"OK". He kneels in front of me, and takes my hand.   
  
He doesn’t say anything else. I remain quiet. Words will be needed later, but not now. We hold hands. In the dark. And the weight starts to lift.

**Author's Note:**

> Original post here: http://outoftheclosetshipper.tumblr.com/post/89643379038/ff-6-in-the-dark


End file.
